


Home

by Aithilin



Series: NyxNoct Week 2020 [4]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Comfort Food, Cooking, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, NyxNoct Week 2020, Reference to canon events, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:54:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26722504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/pseuds/Aithilin
Summary: Nyx had never appreciated the traditions of Galahd until he no longer had them.
Relationships: Noctis Lucis Caelum/Nyx Ulric
Series: NyxNoct Week 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1939900
Comments: 8
Kudos: 19
Collections: NyxNoct Week 2020





	Home

Back home in Galahd, Nyx had never really appreciated the small things his family gave him. The little traditions he held dear now, or the small observances Libertus used to get on him about, had never made much difference in his life when he really thought back about the holidays and meals. All of that came later, after he watched his hometown burn and the world he knew go up in a shower of ash and cinder and embers floating long into the dark of the night like fireflies. 

“How did you get so good at this?” 

“Practise, little star.”

Nyx didn’t want to admit that he had searched for the things well beyond his countries borders when he was growing up, oblivious to the treasures on his own doorstep. He didn’t want to remember the fights with Libertus when they disagreed on the menu at the bar, the near punch ups when “that’s not how they do it over there” slipped out between them like some taboo threatening the sanctity of what they were creating. He still remembered the absolute disgust on his friend’s face at every first taste and carefully scrutinized label. 

“It smells good,” Noctis sat on the countertop opposite where Nyx was working, bare feet tapping the cupboard door in a lazy rhythm almost in complement to the pot of boiling water. “Well, it looks like it should smell good.”

Nyx smiled as he finally added the filled dumplings to the water with a touch of the colourful spices pinched from a tin he had carried with him halfway across the city. The pasta wasn’t the delicate thin strands from Altissia, or the now-familiar heavy noodles from Lucis. The carefully primped and over-sized and overstuffed pockets from Lestallum had been a temptation when he went searching for the night’s meal; as had the colourful little Altissian bows dyed with vegetables and squid ink. But he settled for something familiar, that reminded him of the nights Selena would beg and bribe him for his speciality.

“Haven’t sniffed anything yet.”

“That was terrible.”

“You love it.”

“I love you.”

The mix had been prepared piece by piece and carefully. The dumplings pinched carefully together and folded the ways that used to make his sister beam and coo, even as he unceremoniously dumped them into the stock and water in batches. The change was almost instant; the spice seeped into the dough to colour it in uneven patches, the aromatics added to the pre-cooked fillings released in the heat. He heard Noctis slip from the counter and smiled when he felt his lover’s arms circle his waist. 

Noctis was shorter than Selena. He couldn’t rest his chin on Nyx’s shoulder the way his sister would have as she called him the best big brother in Eos for making her favourites. But Noctis could see around him, could weasel his way around Nyx’s side to watch the dumplings bob through the boiling water as Nyx counted down the time silently with a light tap against the counter top. “How long?”

“Three batches? Twelve minutes or so.”

“Really?”

“They have to cook, little star.”

“You cooked the meat inside, isn’t that enough?”

“If the headlines for tomorrow read that I’ve killed you with raw dough, I’m going to be pissed.” Nyx’s eyes never left the pot, even as he wanted to turn on Noctis and send him off on some task to set the table or get the sauce they would need. He wanted to, but he also wanted to feel Noctis pressed up against him like this for as long as he could. He wanted to feel the calm that came with Noctis wrapped around him, as they both watched a pot of boiling water and the dumplings Nyx used to throw together on his sister’s whim. 

He spent the last three days digging out the old recipe book buried in with the treasures taken from home. Four generations of Ulric recipes— some barely legible as they were crushed together on shared pages and marked with notes from the generations after— had been stuffed into a single, heavy book he had refused to part with as his world crumbled beneath the Imperial occupation. The book from his mother, the kukri from his father, the images pinned to the little memorial back in his apartment for his sister. 

All his world in a box he had refused to leave behind.

He hadn’t thought of it for years, until Noctis had asked him if he was tired of eating Lucian food. 

Nyx remembered shouting matches with Libertus when Nyx suggested they serve Lucian food at the bar. Lucian beers. Altissian wines. They sold better than the Cavaugh ales and Galahd spirits in the short time the bar was theirs. 

Nyx scooped the first batch from the water and set them down, one by one, on a plate. Steam carried the warmth of the spices he had mixed himself— picking and choosing from a market on the way home one night, as Libertus nodded his approval— and the hearty, familiar scent of the meat filling stretching the little purses of dough out.

“Not yet,” he tapped Noctis’ creeping hand away from the steaming morsels as the next batch was tossed in the water. When he looked again, it was because he had felt one arm snake away from him, and Noctis was smiling through a bite. “You’re impossible.”

“You sound like Iggy.”

“He’s a sensible guy,” Nyx moved the plate out of Noctis’ reach; “Sometimes. Go set the table.”

“We’re eating in the living room.”

“Then get the sauce.”

The silence as Noctis thought up the possible arguments he could make was almost a victory in itself. Nyx did internally lament the loss of Noctis’ warmth around him, but smiled at the sulking “fine” that answered him. He caught Noctis before he could pull away entirely and pulled him back for a kiss; “Love you, little star.”

“Sap.”

“Brat.”

Noctis settled with a bowl and plates by the couch, busying himself through batches three and four with tidying up the papers and reports he had been told to read from the Citadel with the comics that had yet to find their way to the shelves that carried the rest of the series. Movie and game cases were sorted when Nyx finally set the last of the dumplings down on the serving plate and made his way over, pausing only to grab the drinks from the fridge he had placed there when he arrived. 

“Ready?”

“What happens if I say no?” But Noctis was already reaching for the plate, breathing in the steam and spice, as Nyx relinquished his prize. 

“Then I take everything back,” Nyx opened the drinks as Noctis tested the sauce with a tiny, delicate dip of a folded corner. “It’s going to be spicy.”

“I can handle spice.”

The drink was ready when the heat chased Noctis’ confidence away. It would settle, Nyx knew it would always settle. And he grinned as he dunked his first bite until it was almost covered in the sauce he had mixed from a heavily annotated page originally written down in his great-grandfather’s hand. There were variations and warnings, and his sister’s cheeky ‘marry whoever likes this’ scribbled in its already crowded margins. When Noctis’ next attempt was larger, and he stopped reaching for the bitter Galahdian beer to take the edge off, Nyx smiled. 

He had rebuilt his little world well enough, he thought. He had made it to the city he had once dreamt about seeing, even if it was done through a desperate scramble he’s still not sure how he survived. But he did, and he still wondered at the stretch of the city with its shining Wall and vibrant life that never seemed to end. 

Back in Galahd, Nyx never really realized what home was meant to be.

Here, in Insomnia— with Noctis settled against him and stealing Galahdian food from his plate, beads and braids catching in styled hair on his shoulder— Nyx would be happy to call home.


End file.
